Criminally Insane
by Quarter 'till Class
Summary: Oc x Robin -Dick Grayson-
1. Interrogation

_**Disclaimer: Young Justice character names belong to DC Comics (and so on) unless stated an OC which in case belong to the author, andshecryz. No copyright infringement is intended. Plagiarism is theft so is prohibited. Do not copy or create a reproduction of this work in any language without express written authorization of the author, andshecryz. Thank you...Please enjoy :)**_

_**Oc x ?**_

_**~Enjoy**_

_**Ch. 1; Interrogation**_

_**TWO WEEKS INTO THE FUTURE **_

_**Gotham City Bank**_

_**December 4, 10:08am EST **_

"Joker…" Brown eyes narrowed as Batman looked over the scene before him. Useless money and burnt debris lay everywhere while several bodies were hoisted into body bags and rolled away on stretchers. Robin said nothing…he was much too angry to even open his mouth in agreement of whom to accuse.

They currently rested atop a taller building; looking down over the once peaceful bank that had been set fire to and then blown up in less than a few minutes. Black ash covered everything, and almost half of the building had fallen apart. Metal beams looked melted, and bricks were demolished to nearly nothing as firemen doused the crumbling structure with another wave of water in caution. Seventeen people dead…not one survivor. How sick…how deviously cruel.

"I…thought Joker was placed back into Arkham Asylum." Robin slowly pieced the words together, watching his tone and trying to sound as clam as possible in an attempt to mask the scorching shock that stung his throat. Being frantic and overdramatic was a complete waste of time…caring could also be an intrusion, so he always tried his best to refrain from such emotional outbursts when around his mentor. The boy's wider and much more innocent looking eyes glanced through the mask that covered his features; peering over to the dark knight who could only glare with controlled anger at the many burnt up remains being wheeled out of the destroyed bank.

"He was." The look of intimidation on the other's features was almost overwhelming…yet Robin took it without a common or natural reaction, and instead one of understanding. Even he, being at the young age of fourteen, knew what it was like to be fooled or even slapped across the face. That was exactly what joker was doing…slapping Batman in the face. Batman throws him in jail…he easily escapes, and to prove that very escape…the sick bastard blows up, robs, and murders countless people within such a populated building. He taunted the heroes…laughing his way into destruction and chaotic disaster as he did so. Even then…even when people knew how sick and demented he truly was…people still offered themselves as bait, guards, goons, and even a side-kick in Harley Quinn's case.

_**TWO WEEKS EARLIER **_

_**Arkham Asylum**_

_**November 27, 11:20am EST**_

"Same cell, Jokey." An overweight man, clad in a tan colored uniform, shoved the villain into the cell roughly while a shorter and much lankier one, with a dark colored apron and goggles, stood beside him in silence. The cop and the pitiful med-giver were locking him away? For the fourteenth time? The Joker could merely scoff with the usual wide-spread grin at their naïve idiocy. How he wished to shatter a simple bone in each body, make them realize how truly worthless and feeble they really were as they bled out on the floor! One could always dream…or make it happen.

The door slammed shut.

How Rude.

Yet, even as each easily-given opportunity shone through there was something even more woeful waiting just after. So he could only sit in the empty cell of rock and dust; unlatching the sleeves of that dreadfully plain coat as if habit from past experience. He leaned against the newly re-built back wall; remembering how his goons had blown it up last time in his escape, while also listening to the light rainfall against the steel-barred slit of a window made from bullet-proof glass. Beyond such unattractive pitter-patter was a noise…a near-silent one...yet one he could recognize as scraping. A grin stretched over his lips; illuminating the leftover makeup that barely hid the pale tan of his skin.

A new inmate had been housed beside him in his absence. He could hear him…probably scratching at the walls or rolling around in the floor like the psychotic idiot he truly was.

There was a sudden pause of the Joker's thoughts…they had made these walls soundproof at one point…so how on earth could he hear his neighbor? The thought of being even more insane and psycho than he already was made his lips quirk in curiosity, yet for the moment he would doubt such…but only because the noises sounded so real. The scraping would halt for a few moments…as if the lunatic on the other side of the wall had stopped whatever action he had been doing, and then they would continue again for a different span of time. The Joker remained leaned against the far wall…still doubtful of the noises being real and maybe just some sick game his mind was challenging him to. It often did that…as if his brain and conscience had minds of their own.

The noise stopped…and started again.

He pushed himself off the wall; taking note of how his jaw still slightly stung from that nice punch the Bat had sent straight into face. Again, like most of those in law, rude. Lanky legs quickly carried the man across the room and bent as he crouched down; ceasing at a small gap, maybe an inch wide, which rested between the two corner bricks of the re-built walls his and Harley's men had blown down. He was now curious over those persistent sounds…what single-minded dipshit of a man would be so bored as to disrupt-…no…not a man. There stood a girl…much too young to even be considered psychotic. She looked to be fifteen at the most; holding a piece of chalk and drawing over the orang-ish/brown rocks of the walls as what he saw was a gold-ish glow illuminated her form slightly.

His smile grew further if even possible.

"What did some brat like you do to end up in the loony-bin?" The derisive comment was followed by numerous chuckles as he taunted her.

Her head spun; throwing a thick braid of burgundy to the side as she looked over to whoever had been speaking from past the wall. A large cloud of gold dust shimmered off her form just before she dropped the chalk on the floor, finding no other place to put it, and walked over. Her hazel eyes focused onto the small crack from which the noise originated, revealing the man who stood on the other side. His face was mostly painted, some of it being smudged off, and his grin was beyond any definition of wide or sadistic. She knew him like the rest of the world did…as The Joker…and nothing more. Oh! He had asked her a question…and she still had yet to answer as her hazel eyes met his dark green ones, one set of irises tainted by impure and blood-thirsty desires while the others were of pure innocence and full of precious emotion. The same type of innocence and emotion that he, being the most disturbed man alive, enjoyed shattering.

"I murdered my parents." Her semi-false reply was straight forward…and she did not interrogate him or ask and drool over him as some residents of this fowl and uncultivated asylum would do. She had manners; that pleased him. Yet, even within the simple beginning of their conversation through the small crack of the wall he could see her stiffness…and he could sense her fear. She inwardly winced as his voice rose in joyous delight of the topic.

"Good for you! Let me guess…they beat you? Sold you? How many times a week did you eat?" Jayla, as she had been named, took high notice of the cruel humor etched behind every word; making his tone sound as if muffled laughs of mockery that humiliatingly slapped her very being in the face. Still, she would speak nothing of it…she would not insult the criminal keeper of Gotham, and an honored member of the 'Injustice League'.

"They were good to me." Her voice was cautious…almost afraid to share any information with her new 'cellmate'. Hazel eyes watched through the crack as that sickened gleam around his constantly contracted pupils almost glowed from the angle of the light, and the one visible part of his lower face exposed his continuous smile as he smirked and spoke to her like a mere baby.

"Ah, so you're just a whack-job…like me!" Her eyes still stared into his; feeling the extreme angst being forced into her body as the protected and safe feeling was sucked out by the mere sight of his intense glare. It was murderous…scary…daunting and uncivilized…and yet…she felt a connection. A connection that he had sent to her through mere words of no significant importance…a connection that told her someone else felt the same way she did: insane, angry, and somewhat hateful.

"What's wrong, girl? Not a big fan of clowns?" He exposed his teeth in the largest of grins as he responded to her long string of silence…and Jayla could only come to believe that there was no limit to how large his smile could become. The better the joke, the richer the laugh…and the sicker the smile that followed.

"…Is someone coming for you?" Her voice was slightly raised and a bit more confident, yet her shoulders remained tense and rigid, and her teeth dug into her bottom lip anxiously. She was more obvious than Penguin…and that growth-stunted, big mouthed, bird of a man was beyond obvious.

"If someone were coming you'd be dead and I'd be free." He replied with a look of what she would say was irritation and a low growl as he leaned away from his view through the crack.

"I can get you out…" His eyes shot quickly to the side; glaring at her once more through the two inch wide crack in the bricks. There was a moment…one of absolute silence as the usual smile he never broke began to fade into a frown, and the crack they both looked through seemed to expand; exposing the other even further that what had originally been seen. Was she joking? This little girl was kidding…right?

A head-splitting noise echoed through her cell, and she bolted up from her position beside the crack in the wall; fixing her straight jacket to look unwrinkled rather than attempting to re-clip the sleeves as most would attempt. There was no point for her though…she got away with a lot of shit, and all because she was the youngest in Arkham. The door slowly scratched the floor as it opened; gaining her full attention as well as Joker's. A guard, being clad in navy blue, stood at her cell door with the most depressing expression over his features. It humored Joker…only slightly.

"Out, Trick…and no fairy dust this time." She nodded and obliged...wincing at the reference to her powers while watching the rather fit guard she had seen so many times, hold open the heavy-set door and dangle the specially made hand cuffs and chains he would save just for her.

How 'kind' of him…

Her bare feet tapped against the concrete floor as she exited the room; outstretching her hands to expose her wrists to the man in uniform as he clasped the 'dust-proof' cuffs around her limbs. It was impossible for him to be cruel...she was just a little girl...living in hell...and she knew that so well. It was an advantage in this place...and for some odd reason she felt it always would be. Poison Ivy had her own advantages...being locked up next to Clayface in glass cells, that surprisingly neither could break, was one way people would see and look over her...she wasn't an ugly woman, after all.

Jay could feel Joker's eyes glaring at her through the small slot in his door; watching her like a hawk on prey it couldn't get to. She could hear and sense the firm smile spread on his face as the guard ignored him...and yet the eerie feeling soon dissipated as they ventured further down the hall to what she knew was Dr. Strange's office. It was time for her weekly psych evaluation...which she found useless since every week she failed it, and was claimed a nut-job.

They passed several cells of solitary confinement…one of which she knew too well.

"Jayla, come here." Burgundy hair twisted once again with the swift movement of her head as her name was called out. She paused; looking back towards the cell in which Dr. Crane resided. He had no windows, just a metal door with a food slot...and honestly she couldn't blame the asylum staff for taking such precautions with a man so obsessed with fear.

"Scarecrow..." She muttered a greeting as the pale skinned man smiled smugly from within his fully enclosed room. She couldn't refer to him as Crane...Crane was dead...demolished in his own studies of human fear...and in the process he somehow became fear itself. This, however, was the first confrontation he had emitted from his vile mouth to her ears in all her time at Arkham.

"Do me a favor? Unlatch the door, my dear." His voice was soothing and fatherly...yet not commanding in any way possible. It seemed almost scary...and what shook her most was the simple fact that he knew she was there...even when he had no way of peeking out to the hall.

"Why? So you can destroy the already distraught and defenseless minds of the general public?" Her tone was almost hushed, and her lips always parted as some form of obvious anxiety slammed itself against the base of her skull. She ceased her movements and approached the heavy metal door further; causing the chains of her handcuffs to rattle as the guard escorting her tugged at what most would call a 'leash'. Jay threw a menacing glare at the man, and he ceased the tugging, and for an odd reason paused to listen to the current conversation. He became intrigued...and slightly entertained with the two's endless banter.

"And what do you believe that lunatic Joker will do?" Again he sounded smug…but…how did he know of her offer to help Joker? Jay shrugged it off…these halls could possible echo…she guessed.

"Joker's insane...you're just evil. There's a difference." She backed up a few steps; becoming defensive of her personal beliefs. She was right, of course...he was purely evil...cruel and demented. Yet...altogether completely sane.

"A fine line, my dear...a fine line." She could hear the smirk on his lips, and continued walking behind the guard of the asylum as he continued tugging at the confining chains. He suddenly grew sick of their ridiculous commotion.

"Let's go, Trick." She silently agreed and moved; her gaze still following Crane's cell door as she left it behind. He was laughing...she could hear him.

"He killed my parents..." The guard ignored her mindless mumbles...Jayla Trick was just another lunatic locked behind doors...nothing else.

"No, dearest, YOU killed your parents." The tall and morbidly hideous man gave a mixed smile of wicked humor and calm understanding as the shine off his obscurely round glasses and bald head nearly blinded her.

"Dr. Strange, good...morning I would think."

"Have you been so confined that you can't even decipher noon from morn?"

"No...my cell doesn't have a goddamn window...so I wouldn't realize the time of day."

"Excuses, Ms. Trick? Please try and avoid degrading yourself further." He touched the tips of his fingers from each opposing hand together in false contemplation; the smirk of mirth never falling from his lips.

"It's hard to submit to such a request in this hell hole. Maybe decent food and less meds would make it a bit better...put in a good word for me?" She morbidly smiled; seeming like the most devious prisoner within the asylum for a mere moment.

"There is no 'good word' here." His thickly accented voice dulled slightly as he tilted his head down to look past his glasses. A hand came up; attempting to sweep away the gold colored dust that formed around her and obscured his vision only slightly. The scowl of annoyance on his face was priceless…and Jay almost laughed.

"I figured."

**-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-**

"Failed again." Strange slammed his notepad shut with a humored sigh and a stroke of his beard. His other hand waved in what appeared to be dismissal, but merely called over the guard, whom she had learned to be 'James', to escort her out of his office.

"I guess." She replied as a hand clasped over her shoulder and hoisted her up without much force. That damn guard was beginning to irk her…mainly because of his useless and stupid sympathy, but also because he was an ignorant, low-life of a man who more than likely never went to college. Well…who was she to talk? She only began freshman year in high school.

"Let's go, Trick…meds will be waiting for you in your cell."

"..." She really had never bothered to learn this guard's name…and if she actually once had, then she hadn't bothered to remember. There was no point…even after a good year or more within Arkham she had yet to pay any attention to anything at all. Her limbs grew cold and stiff as they passed Crane's door again, and an obvious attempt at hiding such fear she truly drowned in was a simple mask.

**THIS…IS **_**MY**_** STORY. NOT A F****** REQUEST! IT'S MINE! BWHAHAHAHAHA! HAHAHAHAH!…anyway…hope you enjoyed the first chapter. ^^ Should there be any pairing at all? Hmmm…maybe…don't know yet…will you all vote on that? **

**Well thanks for reading…Constructive Criticism is appreciated…flames are not liked but are still acceptable. Thanks again!**


	2. How It Works

Disclaimer: Young Justice character names belong to DC Comics (and so on) unless stated an OC which in case belong to the author, andshecryz. No copyright infringement is intended. Plagiarism is theft so is prohibited. Do not copy or create a reproduction of this work in any language without express written authorization of the author, andshecryz. Thank you...Please enjoy :)

Oc x ?

**~Enjoy**

**Ch. 2; How It Works**

_**-.-.-.-.-.-**_

**Arkham Asylum**

**November 28, 06:33pm EDT**

Joker arrived back into his cell with yet another shove from that damn officer; brushing off the putrid smell that stifled the air of Arkham which distinctly suggested that of a rotting corpse. He growled venomously before venturing further into the square room of bricks while muttering words of anger and murder; pulling back his arms and easily unlatching the buckles of his jacket. Strange was always so persistent on finding the 'quirk' in his mind…and he never once found what he was looking for in any of his two hundred-sixty-four sessions with the clown. A smile or triumph and humor firmly placed itself upon his lips as the door slammed, and the sudden echo of vacancy rang throughout his room of solitary confinement. His head shot over to the crack in the wall; glaring at it for a minute before slowly making his way towards the only means of communication.

"Girly~…let's play a game…" He knocked on the brick wall as if it were the door of her home; looking through the crack and seeing her drawing on the walls with the chalk like before. He couldn't see enough of the wall to figure the picture, but honestly he could give less of a shit about her artwork…he wanted out…now. Jay turned her head towards the crack; viewing the wall and listening as his voice echoed slightly. He was definitely sick…in the mental way rather than the ill way.

"…"

"You said you could get me out of here?"

His voice was sarcastically suggestive…seeming cold.

"I believe so…you have a window in your cell door, right?" He raised a brow of slight disbelief at what he found to be her idiocy as she dropped the chalk onto the floor; listening to the white and dusty writing utensil shatter against the concrete of her cell.

"One the size of your tiny brain." He muttered with a glare and a gloomed smirk while leaning away from the wall. He turned around; acting like an ignorant child who had not gotten his way.

"Yes I can." It was strange really…how she managed to magically fucking appear in his cell without warning or even a full minute to end their conversation. Joker glanced over his shoulder with narrowed eyes and a smug smile of deviation as she grasped the bars of the 2x10 inch slot. Her body reformed from a silent wave of gold-colored dust; seeming almost miraculous.

"Super powers? I just thought that golden glow meant you were a freak…" He cackled heavily and wiped away a fake tear from his eye as if watching comedy. Jayla scoffed silently in the back of her head as she took a closer look at her new 'friend'. He was a slender man with above average height and a wicked expression. His choppy and mop-cut bangs were dyed a deep green, and his skin was painted a pale white; making his red colored smile stand out even more. Where he had received the utensils to re-do the procedure of makeup application she would probably never know, and honestly she really didn't want to.

"I'll go through the window and I'll unlock your door, and then you're your own problem….On one condition."

"Hmm? You can't just set a good man free?" He chuckled as the words literally hissed past his lips.

"Kill everyone in Gotham…and go on from there." He froze…finding her request a bit unexpected along with overbearing, but he simply nodded with the usual smile growing over his features. He liked this little girl…she had _spunk_. He still had no clue what her exact power was…until she again, magically fucking turned into dust and sparkled her depressing ass through the small barred window. The door shook for a moment; giving off unusual sounds just before it swung open as if awaiting a king. Jayla leaned against the wall in exhaustion, almost completely out of breath from such a painful process of ripping her body into minuscule particles of dust and shredding the metal locking unit of a door with said body-dust. Her eyes became red as they watered and her limbs weak and shaky as she gave an effort to stand. The last of her hand became solid, allowing her attention to focus on Joker who had already sprinted down the hall with no word of thanks.

It was expected.

Her bare feet tapped lightly against the floor as she began running; speeding past doors and blank walls before finally finding a window. She had never seriously attempted escape…and she had never believed it to be so easy. She stood at the edge of the barred window; finding herself thin enough to slip between the metal columns rather than turn to dust like before. Her breathing was heavy, and for a moment she wondered how exactly Joker would escape…but she was sure he would. He was the Joker…he always escaped.

**Gotham City Streets**

**December 2, 02:15pm EDT**

Pursed lips let out a happy sigh as she stepped back from the man who was leaned against the wall. She placed the gun back into the breast pocket of her leather jacket, and pulled the fuzzy hood over her head even as the snow fall began to cease. She looked around the alley she stood in; finding the cloud cover making it more eerie than thought possible, and that distinctive whiff of putrefaction making her stomach turn as it tainted the musty air. A thin red stream of blood melted the layers of soft ice on the floor while she began walking away from his newly made corpse. He had looked at her funny, and then he had approached her with vile intentions…she hated that.

"Hey, Sparkles! I didn't think you had gotten out!" She jumped from surprise; aiming her gun towards the all-to-familiar voice as his is smug smile and wide spread arms acted as if welcoming, but she simply tightened her grip on the metal weapon and took a step back. He laughed aloud at her anxiety, seeing her agitation become almost palpable as she set a curled finger to the trigger. Another woman, clad in red and black, stood beside him, hugging her black military-styled jacket closer to her body…frowning in comparison to his own upturned lips.

"Joker…we had a deal. You haven't done anything yet!" Her accusation sounded cold as she confronted him, and yet he gave not a single shiver to her words nor the freezing weather that cracked her skin mildly. He inspected her further, taking note of her new hair style of a high pony-tail and nicer clothes compared to the bland and boring straightjacket. Her stern-set expression clashed with his own smile of mirth, and her frown easily told him there would be no humored audience which he usually figured. Yet, it did not put him off…not one bit.

"Done what? All this takes time, money…and people." His tone was drowned in darkly eerie suggestion and insinuation as he walked closer acting bored; flipping open his pocket knife and scraping the edges against the hard callus of his pale thumb.

"I just watch the show, I don't perform." He looked over to dead man sitting in the snow with his back against the alley wall; a long smudge of blood trailing down the wall to his body where it had dragged the liquid over the bricks. Joker raised a green colored brow in obvious question at the scene of murder, still holding his trademark smile.

She simply shrugged as her frown darkened.

"Stick around; it would be an absolute _pleasure_ to have you aboard our…_loony-train_." His smile spread wider as he pressed his thumb further against the cold metal of his pocketknife; still drawing no blood. Harley Quinn approached, a look of annoyed caution plastered on her pretty features which hid behind the black mask she glowered through. She didn't like this girl…mainly because she was a girl…and Joker was talking to her, but that was a natural reaction for a woman who was so dearly in love with a man that would leave her on the train tracks to save his own skin. She couldn't help it…that was who she became. Dr. Harleen Quinzel was forever Harley Quinn.

That's how it worked.

"Like I said…I don't perform."

"Oh please…you and I both know that you're further into this pit of deranged psychosis than the average idiot. You're a mad-man err…wo-man…who probably hates the world just like the rest of us _'crazies'_." She could clearly sense the humored interest behind his voice; echoing slightly in the alley as she contemplated over what could possibly be labeled as a dire consequence to her reckless and irresponsible decision. Hazel eyes looked to the pocket knife being held towards her unthreateningly.

He currently posed no threat at all, but only because he hadn't wanted to.

"No-"

"-Why? I'm sure you hate everyone for what they did to you…especially what they accused you of…" His arms were spread wide as if gesturing to the entire city, but his voice was full of false pity and dread as the smirk that lay so evident on his painted lips stood crudely without falter.

"H-How…how did you know about that?" Her tone rose, and Harley nearly flinched at the unnecessary commotion the girl was causing. Even so, she stayed silent; remaining loyal to her 'Mr. J' and obeying his request of her silence.

"A little research never hurts…and there are really no secrets between inmates at Arkham. Scarecrow really had a lot to say…even in solitary confinement! But still…wouldn't you want to rid the world of these people posed as meager pestilence, and silence every last idiot in this urban cesspool! Wouldn't you? These people tore you apart…throwing around that lie of a headline in the local paper about your insanity and desecration of your own family. Don't these people just…disgust you?" His toothy grin spread further and further over his face as he continued imagining how perfect and pretty Gotham would appear with blood-paved streets and dead corpses hanging from the buildings and traffic lights. All the windows shattered, and everyone laughing as the weak and stupid suffered from torture. The vision was his personal definition of erotic.

It was exquisite.

"I-…how…I didn't kill them. He did…that bastard Jonathan Crane!"

"Then do what those stupid heroes would do…'avenge' them…Jayla, is it?" He coughed out a dry laugh while spinning the small pocket knife in his fingers. His mocking tone echoed in the alley…yet no one around had even dared go into the small space that seemed darker than usual.

Jayla took in a deep breath of patience, finding his encouraging words almost intoxication as if he were a cult leader. Yet she had to admit…he was transcendently clever in his own sense…and she had a strong feeling that his mischievous and disturbed mind is what kept him alive. The talk of her parents made her anger burn, and caused the once dormant thoughts of her scarred mind come to surface at the memory of their deaths. Her heart clenched for a moment…finding it hard to trust a man whose very breath reeked of corruption and chaos. Yet…he could relieve her of what her mind was aching for…the release of all souls…those innocent and guilty. He could unintentionally find her peace among blood.

"Fine. As long as you demolish Gotham." She buried her hands into the warmth of her pockets; awaiting the next word of sarcasm to spew from his mouth.

"Great…welcome to the family!" His uncontrolled cackles were thrown into the air from his lungs, catching Harley's attention as she poked the leg of the dead man with the toe of her red boot. How had no one heard the gun shot that so obviously twisted itself into his heart go off? The psychiatrist forced a small smirk of false approval onto her lips; feeling annoyed with this little girl as she skipped into their fucked-up home as if she'd belonged there.

"What _'family'_?" Her icy attitude proclaimed the buried anger she felt in the situation as she scoffed out the inquired remark…it wasn't her job to murder everyone…It was his.

Again…like everything else…that's how it worked.

**-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-**

_My mother was a devoted scientist…and my father was her psychologist. That's how they met._

**FLASHBACK**

**IRDC (Institution of Research Devoted to a Cure)**

**May 14, 08:20am EST**

"Are you sure, Jayla?"

"Mom, I want to help." Jayla looked up at her worried mother; watching as the blue eyed woman pressed the buttons on the complicated machine with furrowed brows and a look of sympathy. The younger currently lay on a solid metal cot, one that slowly pulled her into a contraption which resembled an MRI scanner. It was white…and the blinding lights on the roof of the inner walls were painfully bright as her hazel eyes came into contact with the rays. Jay winced slightly; constantly reminding herself to keep still while inside the machine. It was supposed to help her…to save her life. Her mother had built it herself, and had yet to test it on anyone willing.

Her own daughter was the first.

"I know…" She could barely hear the comment before the door to the small machine locked shut beneath her feet, and everything around her changed. The feeling of the air felt thicker, and a harsh sensation of what the little girl could only describe as needles pricked at her skin erupted from all angles. Her breathing became quick, and her muscles tensed as a thick wave of radiation was sent into her body. Then…she felt nothing…and utter surprise which made her question whether or not she was still living. Her words caught in her throat…and the vision of white lights she had once been facing seemed to shatter as unconsciousness consumed her frail body of eleven years.

**-.-.-.-.-.-.-**

_**ST. JUDE HOSPITAL RECORD**_

_Name; Jayla S. Trick_

_Age: 11_

_DOB: July 7th_

_Current Residence: Star City, CA._

_Address; 1417 Hunter Dr._

_Contact Info; N/A_

_Date Submitted: August 13th_

_Current Condition: Terminal Cancer Patient (Dire)_

_Estimated Time to Live: Two Weeks_

_Parental Guardians: Savannah M. Trick (mother) Justin D. Trick(father)_

_Current Doctor: Dr. Savannah M. Trick_

**-.-.-.-.-.-.-**

"Oh my god…what did I do to my baby?" The constant sobs of her mother echoed throughout the lab as she broke down from her own fault. The thin layer of dust that was spread across the metal cot became visible as Savannah shakily pressed the buttons on the machine; forcing out the remains of what she could see was her daughter. Her assistant, Ariana Malina, ran up…her gloved hands clasping quickly over her gaping mouth in shock at what the supposed 'cure' had done. Savannah buried her face into her hands…hiding her guilt-ridden tears.

"The pain…is gone…" Her head shot back up; watching as the gold-colored dust was forced back together and created a familiar form of burgundy hair and hazel eyes. Her words became dry within her throat; nearly choking the poor woman of 38 years as her daughter sat up…and smiled.

**-.-.-.-.-.-.-**

_The radiation used to destroy the cancer and cure me also tore apart my body…leaving behind small molecules of what appeared to be dust. The operation was never used again, and my mother was fired for reckless use of radiation._

**-.-.-.-.-.-.-**

**FLASHBACK END**

**I AM PERSONALLY NOT TO FOND OF THIS CHAPTER...IDK..IT SEEMS...OFF. ANYWAY, PLEASE TELL ME WHAT YOU THINK ^^**


	3. How To Smile

Disclaimer: Young Justice character names belong to DC Comics (and so on) unless stated an OC which in case belong to the author, andshecryz. No copyright infringement is intended. Plagiarism is theft so is prohibited. Do not copy or create a reproduction of this work in any language without express written authorization of the author, andshecryz. Thank you...Please enjoy :)

Oc x Robin

**~Enjoy**

**Ch. 3; How To Smile**

**-A/N; I am, in detail, using the Arkham Asylum version of Scarecrow. I personally find him more attractive, dangerous, and frightening within that specific style rather than previous visuals.**

_**TWO YEARS AGO**_

**Gotham City**

**September 25, 3:07am EST**

"_Fear…the anticipation of pain or danger. I should kill you…but...I won't." _He spoke to her randomly out of his thoughts; still pacing back and forth as she sat there with wide eyes and an obvious expression of pure terror. Her fingers dug into the red-stained carpet as she used her hands to support her leaning weight; too terrified to move from her current position. He wore a mask, yet she knew the voice all too well…he had been her father's close associate…basically his partner. Jonathan Crane, a man of psychology just like her dad, had struck his closest work associate and her own mother with a feeling of distraught fear. She had never once found him dangerous…in fact he always seemed like the exact opposite…but now he was the definition of evil. Her eyes were still wide…watching him in utter dismay.

He just…paced. In her home.

A simple twelve year old girl was forced to defend herself and remain merciful by killing her own parents. The same parents who had just minutes ago attacked her while screaming their bruised and bloodied guts out in fear. They had become delusional…running towards her and clawing at her like mindless animals as they began yelling for unknown people or animals to get off of her. To get off of their little girl…and eventually as they ran with open wounds of self-infliction and blood tainting their once clean hands…they began ripping at each other.

'Jayla!' Her mother had continued screaming her daughter's name even after her own father had beat her senseless with mistaken intentions. Justin had been beating the 'rats' off of his poor wife…which is what he had truly seen.

'Get off of her!' Was all he had said as the red-headed man threw a tightened fist into his own daughter's skull…aiming for the supposed 'kidnapper' that was groping his little girl. But…there was no one there…just Jayla…and her newly acquired head wound. She hit the floor roughly; scooting out of the way from such a scene of disturbed violence and into the corner against the tall oak dresser and wall. She wrapped her arms around her knees…hugging them to her chest as she let out heart throbbing sobs. She continued to fear this would never stop, even if it was just a terribly realistic dream conjured up by her mind.

Yet…by what both Crane and Jayla had guessed was the full hour…the couple had lost enough blood to simply fall unconscious, and in the darkest yet brightest of deeds…Jayla Trick put her own parents out of their senseless misery and contagion.

There was pure silence…one that allowed the swift winds from outside to batter trees against the windows of her home…and one that defined the quickened breathing of her two beloved parents. She sat in the corner…eyes still wide in a familiar emotion of dread and trepidation. Her cheeks were ungodly pale and splattered with a thick red substance while her trembling limbs were forced to work by the mere recognition of her mind. A shaky arm stretched out from her curled up position; picking up a decorative lamp that had fallen to the floor within the appalling chaos. Her fingers ran along the thick base which was indented with crevices and a curve to create the design through what she guessed was metal. Her grip tightened around the object…and she slowly stood from her position on the floor.

Scarecrow watched as this young girl of innocence, one who was expelled from society because of what a cancer treatment had done to her, approached the two apprehensive forms upon the ground.

Her mother was curled into a tight ball…unconsciously whispering things of pleading nonsense, and her father lay on his side as he trembled from a dream that was more than likely no worse than his reality. Jayla just stood there with a golden glow; watching over them with a sound expression and downcast eyes that soon became dead as salty water poured past her lashes and across her dirtied cheeks. Dainty hands raised the lamp above her head tensely; slamming shut her teary eyes as she brought the object down over the skull of dark black hair first. Her sobs should have been unbearable to anyone with a soul…which is precisely why Scarecrow felt mere humor by her antics. He watched the girl continuously pound the household item into the woman first…then the man whom he knew as his partner. She was still crying…continuously…but he honestly couldn't care less.

He was more impressed than anything. He had never considered testing something like this out before…something where emotion was still valid within test subjects. Her sympathy for her mother and father…her wish to end their pain…her own personal _FEAR_ of them living like they were until they died…made her kill them.

How…_ironic._

He had approached her after pacing; crouching down beside the young girl with a serious expression of little emotion that she couldn't see.

"Fear…the anticipation of pain or danger. I should kill you…but...I won't."

He continued pacing…and she said nothing as the fear-ridden expression forced her eyes to widen dramatically. The bemused smirk on his lips was hidden by both his raggedly dull face cover and his gas mask as he pointed a finger at the girl in thought. She cringed; looking at the sharp syringes that adorned his fingers as he extended his index towards her in observation. His chest and stomach were bare; showing off his lanky build that she had never seen through the usual business suits, and his clothes looked old and worn. She backed away slowly; watching him intently as her absolute fear shone too obviously in her stilled gaze. He appeared beyond scary…almost as if a nightmare of some sort; reminding her somewhat of the boogeyman.

**-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-**

_**PRESENT DAY**_

_**Gotham Street Corner**_

_**December 2, 9:24am EST**_

Jayla shoved her hands deeper into the pockets of her leather jacket; warming her skin as the hard wind blew against her tiny frame. She turned the corner with a warm sight into the scarf that covered the lower portion of her face and kept the snow from freezing her lips together. She listened as her boots crushed the white substance beneath her feet; leaving tracks for anyone to follow just as the many other people crowding the sidewalk did. She shuffled past many men in business suites and women in heavy jackets…even a man whom she thought for a mere second was Bruce Wayne, but she had been mistaken.

'_Earlier today a man, Thomas Davidson, was found beaten to death in his own apartment. The injuries seemed to have been self-inflicted, and were also the effects of a strong toxin-like drug that was proven to be found in Davidson's system. Test results say that the drug was indeed exposed to Davidson just hours before his death.'_

She paused and turned to the source of the newscast; finding it coming from a blonde woman on several TV screens that had been stacked together behind a window. The store was an electronics store, obviously, and priced the television sets for a high seven hundred bucks. Jay approached the window with wide eyes and stiff muscles; standing beside many others who had paused for a moment to watch the news report. Her heart nearly stopped as she listened further to the case at hand.

'_Davidson's symptoms and toxic screening all point to a familiar assailant, Jonathan Crain, or as we know him…The Scarecrow.' _

_**-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-**_

**Joker's Headquarters**

**December 2, 11:16am EST**

"You released Crane out of Arkham! You bastard!" Jayla stormed into the room recklessly; neglecting to watch Joker's goons through her peripheral vision as they approached her tensed and rigid form. A cold sweat had formed over her features, and a look of anger and undoubted fear was expressed mildly through her hazel eyes.

Joker stood from his seat; smiling with the falsest of sympathy as he shrugged his shoulders in the most modest of ways. He tilted his head swiftly; causing his mop-cut bangs to skim out of his face as he approached her with open arms as usual…like a father-figure of some sort. He stifled a chuckle as he set both hands upon each of her shoulders almost caringly while looking down over her much shorter appeal. She wore the usual white tube top and hooded fishnet tank; revealing the lower portion of her stomach while the upper was covered by a black corset. Her lower was covered by the familiar black spandex shorts adorned with multiple utility belts with knee length boots and a sleeveless jacket that passed her ankles. Harley rolled her large eyes as the other female pointed an accusing finger at Joker..._her _Mr. J.

"J-Trick, sweetie…Can't you trust me?" His smile became more sarcastic and humored than anything…and she scoffed in reply.

"Of course not…"

"Then were all on the same level of paranoia! Perfect!" His grin became even deeper with emotion as his eyes squinted harshly. It was all a simple game…one of cruel smirks and painful endings that he planned to see after planning out the production of utter chaos and atrocity. Someone always died in plays and movies…and he had a deep interest to see how the current one he took place in would finish.

"You bastard…"

"Lighten up doll face! Turn that frown….upside-down." He laughed roughly as he held her chin firmly in place with one hand; reaching into his back pocket and removing the infamous pocket knife he so cleverly used. Her eyes beamed with shock and fear just before she yanked her body away with all the force she could muster up. The man's laughter was now high pitched; making his own goons wince at the noise, and more than likely scaring any child within range of the sound. Harley managed a snicker of distaste before examining her nails in an act of carelessness.

"Get away from me maniac." Jayla uttered out the phrase with a low growl; finding her tone more rough that she intended it to be.

"Look doll face, if you wanna survive this…'industry'…you need to smile." The edge of his knife traced his lips lightly as he grinned. "And if you think about it…I'm not much worse than you…or the other way around. In fact…I think were on the same level of pure, disturbed, lunacy!"

"I don't _need_ to do anything, and I never said we weren't."

"Then lighten up…have some _fun_!" His grin sickened with each passing moment; making her stiffen with caution just before she turned on her heel and left the room in a raged fit. She wouldn't tolerate his incoherent ways of _'living'_…it wasn't what she had planned to do in the first place. She want him to burn the dreaded Arkham to the ground…but not take her down into the pits of hell with him.

Her hands pressed against the wood of the old beat up door to the restroom, pushing it open with force just before she slammed it shut behind her. She locked it tightly; double checking the rounded gold knob before leaning over the sink and turning on the cold water. She splashed her face a couple times; breathing deep as her thoughts uncontrollably swiveled through her head. She looked in the mirror for a moment; taking in her serene appearance that would normally look dainty and feminine if she hadn't lost months' worth of sleep in that dreaded asylum. She quickly yanked open the door of the medicine cabinet and pulled out her eyeliner after maneuvering a few other necessities around. She popped the clear cap off of the pencil before carefully swiping it against the skin of her cheeks, and finally connecting each thin line of makeup to the edges of her lips. There was a fine, curved, line across her jaw; mimicking that of a grin over her lips. She closed the medicine cabinet quietly…

…and she smiled.

**The plot bunnies are killing me here…I have two transformer stories I would enjoy posting, and also another Young Justice fic that I'm considering. (KaldurxOc) idk yet…my heart says yes but my brain says no…like everything else I try to consider. -_-**


	4. Bird Boy

**Disclaimer:** Young Justice character names belong to DC Comics (and so on) unless stated an OC which in case belong to the author, andshecryz. No copyright infringement is intended. Plagiarism is theft so is prohibited. Do not copy or create a reproduction of this work in any language without express written authorization of the author, andshecryz. Thank you...Please enjoy :)

Oc x Robin

~Enjoy

**Ch. 4; Bird Boy**

_-A/N; this continues after the very first part in chapter one.-_

* * *

><p><em><strong>Gotham City Bank<strong>_

_**December 4, 10:30am EST**_

Robin quickly looked up to his mentor after examining what was leftover of the bank. A loud and abrupt noise, one eerily familiar, interrupted their investigation as a wave of green colored smoke began to sift its way through the air and into the building. Both heroes quickly covered their faces from the gas as it affected the other officers; causing the tensed men to begin laughing uncontrollably and finally hit the floor with stopped hearts. The laughing of Joker soon became unmistakable as he and his goons approached with grins of disrupt humor on their faces; hidden behind gas masks.

Their guns clicked loudly as they aimed at both Dick and Bruce as if in sync, and soon began firing with little recoil to affect the shooters. Batman nodded to his young protégé before slipping off to the side shadows caused by the melted beams. He watched the boy wonder jump back in response to the flying bullets that plunged forward from each machine rifle and through the smoky Joker venom. Robin quickly pulled himself up on a beam, releasing the hold he had on his nose and allowing the clean oxygen to fill his lungs swiftly. He watched from above as the goons quickly filled empty sacks with the leftover money that had littered the ground, and as Batman jumped down from the above beams. Joker and Harley turned on their heels to sprint off; hopping over the bodies of police officers before jumping into a getaway car running on the curb of the street. Another wave of green gas filled the lot as Robin soon followed behind them.

He jumped forward with an arm over his mouth and nose once again; forcing himself to hold his breath against the venom that made the musty air thick and stiff. He caught sight of the man clad in purple heading further up the street with his woman of red and black beside him...giggling in their vehicle as he shot up the streets through the window. The sidekick jolted forward once more, finding himself swiftly confronted by a girl about his age. She landed from a high rooftop in front of him; spinning her handgun intimidatingly before aiming the pistol at him with a lazy hand. The Boy Wonder took a quick step back; removing his arm from his face as soon as the green colored gas had clearly faded from the air. His eyes narrowed behind the mask as he looked over the girl standing before him.

She had blood red hair, and what he could see were gold eyes which were more than likely contacts. Her clothes were odd, but reasonable for her presumed line of 'work'. The girl's ponytail reached down her back, and puffed up with high volume...and for an odd reason he could barely see an air of gold surrounding her thin form of 4'11". Yet what startled him most were the thin black lines curving up from the edges of her lips...creating a smile of paint over her cheeks even as her perky lips frowned.

"Looks like Joker's not the only one who likes makeup." He mumbled the joke to himself; labeling her as a threat almost immediately by her appearance.

She seemed...livid.

"Word of advice; leave Joker alone." Her tone was more suggestive than commanding; holding a rather bored sigh as if she had repeated such a phrase a hundred times with little results of understanding.

"Don't mind me asking, but who might _YOU_ be?" Robin pointed a gloved finger as he placed one hand on his utility belt and took a balanced stance; attempting to mimic her foul attitude. She, of course, knew who he was. Everyone knew who he was. She glanced over his fit form; taking note of the black cape and other superhero accessories such as a mask and logo. He looked nothing like some would describe him…and she expected such an outcome with little surprise.

"Jay Trick...nice to meet you." She smiled and held out her hand as a greeting like a normal person, trying to remain somewhat mannerly. Robin simply looked at her hand with what she would assume was a raised brow, and then looked back to her shorter form with a dull expression. He stood straight and crossed his arms with a simple frown of distrust.

"Joker was right...Batman really didn't teach you manners." Her growing smile seemed reluctant and yet sour as she placed the same hand on her hip. Robin continued watching her...staring this new-found enemy down with a scowl of thought and a glare of observation. There was something about her...was it her age? Her odd introduction? Or maybe the sense of continuous anxiety he could just see in her face. No...it was something entirely different...maybe she was a sociopath?

"He's just using you."

"I know...I'm not stupid." Jayla scoffed the comment out before beginning to walk away. She took notice to the street...how empty and peaceful it had become ever since Joker had driven his van down the road like the mad-man he was; shooting up the sides of buildings and whatever else was in his way.

"Then why are you one of his henchmen? He'll just kill you." Robin inquired as she ventured further down the street; his voice echoing slightly off the many brick buildings just before the sound of sirens screamed through the air. He watched her flinch slightly at the sound of law…abrupt and senseless as they sped through streets towards 'criminals'.

"Yea, yea...I've heard the story before. Actually, I'm the one using him…either way I could care less..."

"About your life? Not exactly the best thing to be careless with." His smart tone of sarcasm made her quicken pace.

"My life. Not yours." She turned a corner; sprinting across the pavement and taking a good grip on the fire-escape ladder that hung loose beside the wall of the apartment complex. She hoisted herself up with a twist and gracefully threw herself to the top of the building; becoming even more annoyed than before at her discovery of the 'hero' who had beaten her to the top.

"H-How did you-...whatever." She continued walking across the rooftops; jumping over the open gaps between buildings every now and again as Robin followed her heels. Her comment of attitude reminded him somewhat of Superboy, making him smirk at several memories. Robin hadn't seen his friends and teammates in quite a few days…maybe a week or so. The odd and yet timeless corruption currently tearing up Gotham required his skills and popularity; giving people a sense of hope once they get a small glimpse of he and Batman running across rooftops. Defending it was the best he could do for his city…and even so not everyone appreciated his constant efforts in keeping his home safe.

"Seriously? Who are you...why are you working for Joker?" He also sounded irritated as he pushed out of his thoughts...but he caused his own aggravation rather than hers. Jayla suddenly stopped dead in her tracks; turning swiftly on her heel as she glared daggers of venom at the pest she currently despised.

"Listen, Boy Wonder...give me a call when your parents are murdered, you go insane, and end up in Arkham...I would love to hear how you would successfully deal with that situation." She inwardly smiled to herself as she made her story sappy with hints of saddened emotions itching from each word. Jay expected sympathy...but she received nothing from the sidekick as he crossed his arms again and glared with a straightforward stare. He didn't believe her.

The sirens sounded louder as the police cars screeched down the streets.

"I wouldn't know the last part, but I lost my parents when I was young too. So turning to a whack-job criminal with multiple personality issues who wears more makeup than you do for help? Not the most comforting route to take."

"Everything's a joke with you, isn't it?"

"Me? Look who you're protecting!" He extended an open-palmed hand towards the heart of Gotham while implying the freak of a clown himself.

"What can I say…He's a great guy..." Sarcasm poisoned her words as she shrugged with a smirk. "I-"

"What? You what? Trust him? Did he tell you about the time that he threw Harley Quinn into Batman in an escape attempt? Or the time he threatened to blow her brains out with a gun when surrounded by police?" Robin exhaled deeply; attempting to regain his composure. Why was he getting so loud? Why was he allowing himself to lose such control within his emotions? She didn't understand...that was it. Of course his constant need to always be right didn't help, but he never took that personal factor into account. There was never a need to.

The sirens grew closer...echoing throughout Gotham City and clashing with the many other noises as the sun began to sink beyond the horizon.

"No...and that doesn't surprise me, but I respect him. There's no trust in a leader-follower relationship...not with Joker anyway." She waved a hand in dismissal of the subject...turning again and beginning to walk away as the air grew cold and stiff with tension. He would be wondering where she was...maybe. Probably not.

Robin remained silent.

"One question Boy Wonder…"

"What?"

"What's it like-..." She looked back at the side kick with furrowed brows...swallowing and parting her lips to finish the question, but finding herself too chicken to fully ask. "…-Never mind."

She pushed herself forward and off the edge of the first building; listening as the police sirens grew closer and closer to her ringing ears. Robin let her go...he wouldn't arrest her. She was probably just confused...right?

This J-Trick character...was...just confused.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Mount Justice<strong>_

_**December 5, 02:25pm EDT**_

"Robin, haven't seen you in a while." Artemis looked towards her teammate from her seat at the breakfast nook, listening to herself as she sighed and continued on with homework. Her fingers tightened around the pen as she tapped it against the thick pages of her textbook; aggravation and stress evident on her features.

_**-Determine the measure of angle C. -**_

Her mind swiveled as she grew lazy; finding the problem harder than usual.

"28."

"What?"

"The angle is 28 degrees. It's congruent to its opposing angle, and both have a 90 degree angle witch is angle B. Basic problem solving." Robin muttered the answer as he jumped over the back of the couch, landing on the middle cushion and placing his feet on top the coffee table.

"Wha-…uh never mind!" Her anger spiked as she slammed shut her book and left the room; passing Aqualad with low murmurs of irritation as usual. The leader watched the blonde with a curious eye as she quickly made her way out with several books in hand.

"Robin…it is good to see you so soon. I thought the mission with Batman would have lasted much longer." Kaldur smiled lightly in greeting to his teammate.

"It's not over…I just needed time to think." His head tilted back against the couch cushion as he ran a quick hand through his hair.

"About what? Is this mission more than what you had both expected?"

"Yes…and no. We expected it to be Joker by the method of operation…but…he has a new accomplice. "

"Other than Harley Quinn? This is surprising. I take it this new accomplice took you off guard?" Kaldur set a curled finger to his chin in thought; looking down at the boy wonder who stared at the blank screen of the TV.

"Yea…kinda. Well…I-…I don't know…it was just weird. Seeing someone my age, who acted just like me…on the other side rather than the good one. It makes me wonder what could have possibly happened to make _her_ become so…corrupted. I mean, look at me! I'm totally normal even after my parents were killed…but _she's_ all messed up." Kaldur studied him for a brief moment, listening as he implied this 'new villain' was indeed female.

"Robin…you're not exactly normal. Your mind is much different from those of average people. Maybe this girl couldn't cope with the loss of her loved ones…maybe she felt that turning into someone else was the only way to find any form of closure."

"It doesn't make sense…why would she work for Joker? Wouldn't she want to have some form of justice…something other than giving into the wrong side?" Robin sighed as he leaned further into the couch and put both hands comfortably behind his head in thought.

"She trusted you enough to tell you that much information about herself?" Kaldur pieced it all together; narrowing his pale green eyes with interest.

"I guess…" Robin shrugged.

"Her name?"

"All she said was…J-Trick. I guess that's what the public calls her, or her alias."

"Or it's her name. She told you a brief recollection of her background story…so why wouldn't she tell you her actual name? This is more than what you think it is…I believe it could be a cry for help."

There was a small silence…one of thought and reason that eventually led to Robin jumping off the couch and sprinting towards the main hall. Kaldur quickly followed; looking on towards the holographic computer near the center of the room that was currently being used by the Boy Wonder himself. Several clicking sounds echoed through the cave as Robin scanned the computer screen with searching eyes hidden by the usual mask. Her Arkham photo came up; showing a girl with hazel eyes and burgundy hair pulled into a thick braid. She was frowning, as most inmates did.

"Jayla Trick, age fifteen, eyes hazel, hair red-brown, blah, blah, blah…born Star City…moved to Gotham, attended school…was a cancer victim?" Robin's brow instinctively rose as he continued reading; fully aware of the patient Aqualad who stood behind him.

"Involved in an unsuccessful cancer project held by Dr. Savannah M. Trick who was also her mother…. Her father was a certified psychologist and partner to _Dr. Jonathan Crane_? Both parents were found dead in their family home and their daughter Jayla was found to be the culprit of the murder."

"This may be the reason she is the way she is…she has been mentally and emotionally scarred."

"Soon after Trick was placed into the closest insane asylum due to violent acts against federal officers involving super powers that may have been acquired during her time as a terminal cancer patient and test subject. Her case was held and the jury found her guilty for the murder of Savannah and Justine Trick. She was placed into cell number 517, but was recently moved into cell 112 for rebellious behavior. So that's how it happened…"

"What are you referring to, Robin?"

"Joker's cell is number 113."

* * *

><p><em><strong>Downtown Gotham<strong>_

_**December 5, 09:18pm EST**_

"Not to make her the prime subject…but how is she doing?" An eerie tone salted his voice nicely as he placed both hands behind his back in quaint anticipation.

"I'm _AFRAID_ I don't know who you're talking about…" Joker's grin spread widely at his own little joke; earning several unsure glares from henchmen and a giggle from Harley.

"…Jayla…" Her name rolled off his tongue as if poison; a small smirk evident on his face just by the tone of voice.

"How should I know? She's just doing me a couple favors in return for the destruction of Gotham…it's a win-win situation." He laughed again, placing one hand on top of his mop-cut bangs and the other over his abdomen as he cackled hysterically. Harley also smiled sharply with a tint deviation behind her blue eyes.

"Interesting…she's all yours, Joker."

"Splendid! I can't _wait_ to see how this game goes!" His faint laughter echoed menacingly through the warehouse. Crane turned; slowly making his way out of the abandon facility with the largest of smiles hidden behind his gas-mask.

"Until she runs into me…"

* * *

><p><strong>Alright…so end of this chapter. :3 Hope you guys are enjoying it so far…it's about to get wayyyy more interesting. I promise that. You know I want her to be somewhat MarySue but not overboard. (let's face it if an oc isn't a tad bit MarySue then the story is boring) Her background story is basically the only thing MarySue about her. She does have a bone to pick with Crane (whom might I say is amazing) and he's obviously enjoying this little game with her, but she won't be matching up to his standards anytime soon…or ever. And now that she's met our lovely Boy Wonder I'm sure things will turn for the worse…or better. Idk it can go either way. Lol<strong>

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